The Bliss Of Ignorance
When Jack took Nell into his arms He knew he acted ill, And thought as he enjoyed her charms Of his fiancée Jill. “Poor dear,” he sighed, “she dreams of me, I shouldn’t act
A Song Of The Sandbags
No, Bill, I’m not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh (The cove be’ind the sandbags ain’t a death-or-glory cuss). And though I strafes ’em good and ‘ard I doesn’t ‘ate the Boche, I guess they’re
Finale
Here is this vale of sweet abiding, My ultimate and dulcet home, That gently dreams above the chiding Of restless and impatient foam; Beyond the hazards of hell weather, The harceling of wind and
Enemy Conscript
What are we fighting for, We fellows who go to war? Fighting for Freedom’s sake! (You give me the belly-ache.) Freedom to starve or slave! Freedom! aye, in the grave. Fighting for “hearth and
My House
I have a house I’ve lived in long: I can’t recall my going in. ‘Twere better bartered for a song Ere ruin, rot and rust begin. When it was fresh and fine and fair,
The Prisoner
Upspoke the culprit at the bar, Conducting his own case: ‘Your Lordship, I have gone to far, But grant me of your grace. As I was passing by a shop I saw my arm
A Bachelor
‘Why keep a cow when I can buy,’ Said he, ‘the milk I need,’ I wanted to spit in his eye Of selfishness and greed; But did not, for the reason he Was stronger
Mary Ellen
It’s mighty quiet in the house Since Mary Ellen quit me cold; I’ve swept the hearth and fed the mouse That’s getting fat and overbold. I’ve bought a pig’s foot for the pot And
Pragmatic
When young I was an Atheist, Yea, pompous as a pigeon No opportunity I missed To satirize religion. I sneered at Scripture, scoffed at Faith, I blasphemed at believers: Said I: “There’s nothing after
The Wanderlust
The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas, Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth; The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chairs of ease, Has hurled me to the
The Centenarians
I asked of ancient gaffers three The way of their ripe living, And this is what they told to me Without Misgiving. The First: ‘The why I’ve lived so long, To my fond recollection
Sailor's Sweetheart
He sleeps beside me in the bed; Upon my breast I hold his head; Oh how I would that we were wed, For he sails in the morning. I wish I had not been
Worms
Worms finer for fishing you couldn’t be wishing; I delved them dismayed from the velvety sod; The rich loam upturning I gathered them squirming, Big, fat, gleamy earthworms, all ripe for my rod. Thinks
Breakfast
Of all the meals that glad my day My morning one’s the best; Purveyed me on a silver tray, Immaculately dressed. I rouse me when the dawn is bright; I leap into the sea,
Aspiration
When I was daft (as urchins are), And full if fairy lore, I aimed an arrow at a star And hit – the barnyard door. I’ve shot at heaps of stars since then, But